


Coming Home

by BeBunny



Category: No. 6
Genre: M/M, Yuletide 2011
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:06:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeBunny/pseuds/BeBunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shion has so far been instrumental in the recovery of the new city after the shattering tragedy of Holy Day. However, despite his generosity and patience with the people of No. 6 there's still a huge piece of his puzzle missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coffeebased](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeebased/gifts).



Sunrise seemed almost impervious to the changes society and its shell were subject to. It never ceased to amaze Shion that regardless of the shifting landscape of the Number 6 city center and the West Block the sun always rose in the same place and set just the same. He watched the first fingers of dawn touch the scattered remains of what was left of the slums beyond the now dismantled walls. Restoration work was going ahead as planned, although Matsumoto now oversaw the difficult task of deciding exactly what was worth saving in the West Block. It had taken time for the former administrator of a reclusive paradise to see value from the perspective of the residents who had lived in the shadow of Number 6. Time spent with InuKashi at Shion’s request had remedied that, although he hadn’t been the same since.  
It grew a little warmer as the morning broke. The scents of fresh bread and pastries drifted up from his mother’s bakery below and Lili, Now a capable young lady, busied herself hauling the street board out and sweeping the tiles the led up to the shopfront. It had been a choice, no, it had barely been a consideration; whether or not to move up into the city centre as a new official or to stay with his mother in the suburbs, almost exactly halfway between the Moondrop and the West Block, the two communities he was now charged with uniting. In some ways it was a fitting tribute to his role. Besides, the apartment above the bakery was warm and suited the three of them just fine, the balcony was the perfect place to watch passing storms too.  
The eerie quiet of the streets surrounding the bakery still seemed unnatural. The rustle of the odd wind-swept leaf along the sidewalks the only break in the calm. Shion remembered sitting like this with breakfast on the balcony and watching the commuters filing up to the bus stops, pretzel or croissant in hand. A guard now stood at the corner, not intrusively, only keeping watch. Some residents of the slums had found the transition to city living a challenge. Never black and white, never extremes, push the wall down and take the middle path. Most of the residents inside Number 6 had succumbed to the wrath of Elyurias, their places were taken by the lost outside the walls but they were still a city on their knees.  
Hamlet begged the crumbs from Shion’s plate, and he idly pushed them towards the tiny figure with his fingertips as he sipped the last of his coffee. Rather than take the leftovers however, the mouse sat suddenly upright and looked unblinkingly towards the edge of the balcony. Shion placed his cup down and lent over the railing to see what Hamlet might be sensing.  
There was nothing. Only the empty street below, in the distance, the moondrop was silent.

~*~

Starlight was, as ever, the sharpest thing in Shion’s room at night. All else was dusky, blurred edges and indistinct shapes. The window, always open until the season’s biting cold made it unbearable, clacked gently in the breeze outside. Sleep wasn’t coming easy, he watched the shadow of a moth pass fitfully across the ceiling and disappear, chasing the moon.

“You changed.”

It could have been his imagination. He almost assumed it was, except for the shadow that now blocked out the light from the window. It stood there, ghost-like, still and almost invisible.

“I had to.”

“I know that now.”

Nezumi crossed the space between them so fast Shion almost missed it, but after reaching the bed he seemed gripped in uncertainty, hesitating at the edge of the frame, fists balled at his side. Shion could make out his features now, close as he was. It was no effort whatsoever to reach out and take Nezumi’s hand, pull his unresisting from down beside him to lay stiff and tense beside him.

“I knew you’d come home.” He said.

“Home…” Nezumi’s voice was small, far away. How easy it was to see the boy he’d known, the uncertainty then was no less that was there now, Nezumi’s touch was still his to guide. For all his brash confidence and harsh attitude he had always been content for Shion to take the lead.

“You’d miss cherry pie too much to stay away.”

The laugh started gently, like a breeze, but gathered in intensity until Nezumi shook and trembled with it. His grip on Shion’s hand tightened and they turned to face each other until the echoes of their laugher died away.  
Shion could see Nezumi had aged just a little, his face was tired, for all that the laughter had eased the tension there. He didn’t know where hsi friend had been these past few years. There had been no word, only snatches of what InuKashi has heard through whatever sources she reaped. Enough to know he had headed east, to the forest. Shion could only guess at the ruins that had been the target of the quest. He didn’t push for answers, not yet.  
Nezumi reached out to trace the red scar that marred his face, following the line until his hand rested gently on the back of Shion’s neck, where the mark traveled down his back. Their lips met carefully, fearing insult or rejection until when neither materialized their touch grew fiercer, more desperate.

“No goodbye kiss that.” Shion breathed.

“That was a Hello.”

“The last?”

“The first of many.”

Nezumi’s palm was cool where Shion’s skin flushed. Like so many years ago, they listened to each other breathing in the dark until finally Shion shifted his weight and gathered his unresisting friend up in the covers with him.

“You left the window open.” Nezumi murmured muzzily. “I could have been anyone.” He only grunted when Shion shook his head. “You knew I’d come by the window?”

“Always. Doors with you are optional.”

Hamlet’s eyes blinked red as he shut down for the night, a little closer to the bed on the table nearby than he perhaps would normally. Shion let his arm curl around Nezumi’s waist and pressed his face into the smooth skin of his neck. In the dark he could hear their breathing match pace, the rise and fall of their chests synchronize. He smiled secretly as Nezumi began almost absentmindedly to stroke the scar when he had cut out the wasp larvae. They had saved each other so many times he barely knew where he finished and Nezumi began. It would never be an effort to save him ‘one more time’. As their breath mingled once more and they drew closer, this time savoring their moment, Shion realized with sudden clarity that for all Nezumi’s absence he had never truly been gone. After all, it had been Shion that waited each night for news, Shion who had left his window open each night unless the season forced it closed. This night, it was as much a coming home for him as it was for Nezumi.


End file.
